soil conservation

This morning, I preached a sermon on soil conservation.

Yah, it may seem like a strange topic – and definately not in line with any lectionary passages or a sermon series.

But this spring, I auctioned off a sermon during our youth fundraiser. And the winning bidder got to choose the topic or scripture for an upcoming sermon. Hence, the topic.

What I was blessed with was the resources this congregation member passed along. I learned all about the National Association of Conservation Districts and recieved their amazing church resource packet.

Because of a series we are starting next week on what it means to belong to the body of Christ, this was the weekened I chose to preach on the topic – but Stewardship Week actually kicks off NEXT Sunday – so I want to pass along the site for any who might be interested! HERE

For our worship, I talked about what it is that makes good soil – both in the earth that surrounds us, but also in more metaphorical terms, what makes good soil for our faith to grow in. Using some of Gary Gunderson’s congregational strengths from “Deeply Woven Roots” I lifted up four necessities.

1) Good soil needs roots… both to protect the soil from erosion and also as the tradition and scriptures and stories that ground us in our past.

2) Good soil must be abundant and have a common purpose… a clump of dirt can’t grow the planet’s food and neither can individual Christians reach out and embody God’s will in the world – but together, we can bear fruit.

3) Good soil must be alive… filled with minerals and living organisms and water and soil and air – it is the diversity that makes life able to survive. And our body of Christ requires all of us working together, with our unique gifts to bring to life the word of God in our world.

4) Good soil must be nourished by nutrients and water… without these things, the soil would be dead and worthless, unable to produce abundance. And as people of faith, we need the refreshing power of the Holy Spirit, the waters of baptism, the bread of new life and to live in the Word of God in order to do God’s will.

Passion Sunday – a Reader’s Theater for Worship

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The Lord be with you!
And also with you.
Let us lift up our hearts!
We lift them up to the Lord!
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
It is right to give our thanks and praise!

It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere to give thanks to you, Almighty God, creator of heaven and earth. In your tender love for the human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility. Mercifully grant that today and every day we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever. Amen.

Sing Hymn #269 Lord, Who Throughout These Forty Days

During this hymn – all readers move to their seats.

The Procession (Mark 1:1-11)

Children’s Message

Narrator: It was the time of the Passover, and Jesus and his disciples came to the village of Bethany, very close to Jerusalem and Jesus sent two of them ahead of the group with these instructions:

Jesus: Go to the village across from you. As soon as you enter, you’ll find a colt tethered, one that has never yet been ridden. Untie it and bring it. If anyone asks, ‘What are you doing?’ say, ‘The Master needs him, and will return him right away.'”

Disciple1: We went and found a colt tied to a door at the street corner and untied it. Some of the people standing there asked, “What are you doing untying that colt?” But we told them exactly what Jesus had instructed us, and the people left us alone. We brought the colt to Jesus, spread our coats on it, and he rode it.

Crowd: I was standing on the side of the road, heading into Jerusalem myself for the festival when I saw Jesus riding on the colt. People around me started throwing their coats on the street before him. I eagerly grabbed the palm branch someone handed me and we placed them at his feet also. The Passover is a festival about freedom and liberation – and as we saw him come in… we all felt like hope was in the air. Someone cried out “Hosanna!” “Save NOW!” and soon the crowd was filled with Hosannas…. Surely, Jesus was coming in God’s name.

Sing #279 Filled with Excitement {Jesus will lead the procession as the kids and everyone follow around with palm branches and we take the offering during this time.}

The Passover (Mark 14:1-2,10,12-17)

Narrator: (stand to read) Jesus came into the city of Jerusalem, then entered the Temple. He spent time just taking it all in. But by now it was late, so he went back to Bethany, just a short distance outside of Jerusalem, with his disciples to stay at the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. (sit back down until next line)

Caiaphas: (stand) In only two days the eight-day Festival of Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread would begin. As the Chief Priest, my job was not only to perform religious duties, but in a time of occupation by Rome, I found myself constantly torn between appeasing the governor Pilate and keeping the peace. The crowds spoke enthusiastically about Jesus… too enthusiastically. I don’t know what I feared more – an uprising of the people, or that the Romans would intervene and destroy both the temple and us as a nation. In many ways, I understood that he would have to be sacrificed for the good of the nation. It would be better for this one man to die, than for the whole nation to be destroyed. We began to look for a way that we could seize Jesus secretly and kill him. We couldn’t do it in the open during Passover Week. We don’t want the crowds up in arms, after all.

Judas: (move from disciple group to Lectern) Then, I, Judas Iscariot, one of Jesus’ disciples went to those religious leaders, determined to betray him. I’m not sure what came over me, but there were some things that I had witnessed that I just didn’t understand – like the woman who poured lavish and expensive oils over Jesus. Some things had just seemed to get out of hand. When I showed up before them, the priests couldn’t believe their ears and promised to pay me well. So I started looking for just the right moment to hand him over. (Caiaphas sits, Judas goes back to disciples)

Disciple2: It was the first of the Days of Unleavened Bread, when we always prepare the Passover sacrifice. We were mere visitors in Jerusalem, so we turned to Jesus and asked him, “Where do you want us to go and make preparations so you can eat the Passover meal?”

Jesus: Go into the city. A man carrying a water jug will meet you. Follow him. Ask the owner of whichever house he enters, ‘The Teacher wants to know, Where is my guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with my disciples?’ He will show you a spacious second-story room, swept and ready. Prepare for us there.”

Narrator: The disciples left, came to the city, found everything just as he had told them, and prepared the Passover meal.

{during this response, the disciples/Jesus all move to the “table”}

#288 All: Were you there when he gathered with his friends (X2)
Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble
Were you there when he gathered with his friends

The Last Supper (From Mark 14:18-31)

Narrator: (stand and use pulpit mic) Jesus and his disciples gathered round the supper table to eat. Then their teacher stood up among them and spoke.

Jesus: “I have something hard but important to say to you: One of you is going to hand me over to the conspirators, one who at this moment is eating with me.”

Disciple1: We were absolutely stunned and started asking one another, “It isn’t me, is it?”

Jesus: It’s one of the Twelve, one who eats with me out of this very bowl. In one sense, what will happen tonight is an act of treachery that has been foretold by the scriptures. But in another sense, the person who turns me in – who turns traitor to the Son of Man – well, better never to have been born than to do this!

Narrator: In the course of their meal, having taken and blessed the bread, he broke it and gave it to them.

Jesus & Pastor: Take, Eat. This is my body broken for you. Do this in Remembrance of Me.

Narrator: When they had finished eating, Jesus took the cup, he gave it to them, thanking God, and they all drank from it.

Jesus & Pastor: This is my blood, God’s new covenant, Poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Do this in remembrance of Me.

Jesus: You’re all going to feel that your world is falling apart and that it’s my fault. There’s a Scripture that says, I will strike the shepherd; The sheep will go helter-skelter. But after I am raised up, I will go ahead of you, leading the way to Galilee.

Peter: Even if everyone else is ashamed of you when things fall to pieces, I am Peter. I am your rock. I won’t be.

Jesus: Don’t be so sure. Today, this very night in fact, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.

Peter: Even if I have to die with you, I will never deny you.

Disciple2: All of the rest of us disciples said the same thing.

{During this response, Judas goes to Caiaphas, Disciples & Jesus go to the “garden”.}

All (sung): Were you there when he gave them bread and wine? (X2)
Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble
Were you there when he gave them bread and wine? (X2)

In the Garden of Gethsemane (Read Mark 14:32-50)

Narrator: (stand and use pulpit mic) Jesus took some of his disciples, Peter, James, and John, with him to a quiet place called Gethsemane.

Jesus: Sit here while I pray.

Narrator: He plunged into a sinkhole of dreadful agony.

Jesus: “I feel bad enough right now to die. Stay here and keep vigil with me.”

Narrator: Going a little ahead, he fell to the ground and prayed for a way out.

Jesus: Abba, Father, you can—can’t you?—get me out of this. Take this cup away from me. But please, not what I want—what do you want?

Narrator: He came back and found them sound asleep. Disappointed, he said to Peter,

Jesus: Simon, you went to sleep on me? Can’t you stick it out with me a single hour? Stay alert, be in prayer, so you don’t enter the danger zone without even knowing it. Don’t be naive. Part of you is eager, ready for anything in God; but another part is as lazy as an old dog sleeping by the fire.

Narrator: He then went back and prayed the same prayer. Returning, he again found them sound asleep. They simply couldn’t keep their eyes open, and they didn’t have a plausible excuse. He came back a third time.

Jesus: Are you going to sleep all night? No—you’ve slept long enough. Time’s up. The Son of Man is about to be betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up. Let’s get going. My betrayer has arrived.

Narrator: No sooner were the words out of his mouth when Judas, the one out of the Twelve, showed up, and with him a gang of ruffians, sent by the high priests and their counselors, brandishing swords and clubs.

Judas – Charlotte: (speak at lectern mic) I worked out a signal with them. “The one I kiss, that’s the one—seize him. Make sure he doesn’t get away.” I went straight up to Jesus and said, “Rabbi!” and kissed him. The others then grabbed him and roughed him up.

Disciple1: (use the mic by the plant ) One of us who were standing there pulled out a sword, swung, and came down on the Chief Priest’s servant, lopping off the man’s ear. And Jesus turned to scold us all!

Jesus: What is this, coming after me with swords and clubs as if I were a dangerous criminal? Day after day I’ve been sitting in the Temple teaching, and you never so much as lifted a hand against me. What you in fact have done is confirm what the scriptures have said all along.

Disciple2: (use the mic by the plant ) We were all so scared that all of us disciples turned and ran.

{Jesus moves to where the Caiaphas is sitting. Disciples/Judas sit down in the pews. Peter sits in the stool again)

All: Were you there when he knelt and prayed to God? (X2)
Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble
Were you there when he knelt and prayed to God?

In the Courtyard (Mark 14:53-56,66-72.)

Narrator: (pulpit mic) Jesus was led to the house of the Chief Priest, where some of his council had gathered. In the cover of darkness, they held a secret meeting .

Peter: I followed at a safe distance until they got to the Chief Priest’s courtyard, where I hung back, and mingled with the servants and warmed himself at the fire.

Caiaphas: (lectern mic) We knew that we didn’t have enough evidence or time to try Jesus in the regular Sanhedrin Council , so we met secretly amongst ourselves and to look high and low for evidence against Jesus – anything that we could find that we could use to sentence him to death. But we found absolutely nothing. Lots of people came forward who were willing to lie, but none of the witnesses agreed with one another.

Peter: As I stood in the courtyard, one of the servant girls came in and looked at me.

Crowd:. (pulpit mic)You were with the Nazarene, Jesus.

Peter: I denied it “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I moved farther away from her and heard a rooster crow. But the girl spotted me again and began to talk with the others.

Crowd: He’s one of them.

Peter: Again I denied it. I was afraid of being arrested. I just wanted to watch and see what would happen so that I could go back and tell the others. I knew I was being a coward, but it took all of my courage in the world just to be there. I thought I was off the hook, but after a while, someone else came up to me.

Crowd: You’ve got to be one of them. You’ve got ‘Galilean’ written all over you.

Peter: It was then that I got really nervous and I swore, “I never laid eyes on this man you’re talking about.”

Narrator: Just then the rooster crowed a second time. Peter remembered how Jesus had said,

Jesus: Before a rooster crows twice, you’ll deny me three times.

Peter: I collapsed in tears.

All: Were you there when his friends betrayed and ran? (X2)
Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble
Were you there when his friends betrayed and ran?

Jesus Is Tried by Pilate (Mark 15:1, 6-9)

Caiaphas: (lectern mic) After a whole night of meeting, when the sun began to rise, we arranged for a conference with the entire Jewish Council. We tied Jesus up and turned him over to Pilate. We thought if we were the ones who turned him over to the Romans, that the temple and the people would survive.

Narrator: It was a custom at the Feast to release a prisoner, anyone the people asked for. There was one prisoner called Barabbas, locked up with the insurrectionists who had committed murder during the uprising against Rome.

Pilate: (lectern mic) The crowd came up and began to present its petition to me, Pilate, to release for them a prisoner. I knew of the popularity of this Jesus figure, even though I knew little about him. But he was someone that seemed to be creating quite a following and under other circumstances that could be grounds for treason. And so I asked them – “Do you want me to release the King of the Jews to you?” (“crowd” holds up the cue card: Cue card #1: No)

Pilate: Noah: I thought it might be sheer spite that led the high priests to turn Jesus over to me. I hadn’t personally witnessed any insurrectionist spirit, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of it. Better to squash a threat early than to let it lead to anything. But the religious leaders had by then worked up the crowd to ask for the release of Barabbas. And so I again asked the crowds “So what do I do with this man you call King of the Jews?” (Cue card #2: Crucify him!)

Pilate: “But for what crime?” (Repeat Cue card #2.)

Pilate: So I gave the crowd what it wanted. I set Barabbas free and turned Jesus over to be whipped and crucified. One less peasant for me to worry about. One less revolt to have to put down.

Narrator: The soldiers took Jesus into the palace and called together the entire brigade. They dressed him up in purple and put a crown braided from thorns on his head. Then they began mocking him: “Long live the King of the Jews!” They banged on his head with a club, spit on him, and knelt down in mock worship. After they had had their fun, they took off the purple cape and put his own clothes back on him. Then they marched out to nail him to the cross.

(everyone sits down here, except Narrator. Jesus can speak line from the audience, and then turn off mic)

All: Were you there when they sentenced him to death? (X2)
Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they sentenced him to death?

The Crucifixion {Mark 15:23-43.}

Narrator: As we hear this next part of our story, I invite you to close your eyes and listen with a prayerful spirit.

Jesus was nailed to a wooden cross between 2 robbers. Being crucified was a horrible death normally reserved for criminals. His enemies laughed and hurled insults. As Jesus hung there in great pain the whole world grew very dark. It was as though the sun could not bear to watch what was happening. The crowd was hushed. Jesus repeated one of the psalms to himself.

Jesus: “My God, my God, Why have you abandoned me? I have cried desperately for help. But still it does not come.”

Narrator: After 3 agonizing hours he took one last deep breath. And then he died. It was toward evening when Joseph of Arimathea arrived to ask Pilate if he could take Jesus’ body for burial.

All: Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

Holy Communion

Silent Confession

Pastor: We have heard throughout worship this morning the story of what Christ has done in our lives. We have given thanks to our God through words and deeds. And now we are invited to come to the table of our Lord, to share in the meal that began so long ago.

Gracious God, Pour out your Holy Spirit on us gathered here, and on these gifts of bread and wine. Make them be for us the body and blood of Christ, that we maybe for the world the body of Christ, redeemed by his blood.

By your spirit make us one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world, until Christ comes in final victory, and we feast at his heavenly banquet.

Through your Son Jesus Christ, with the Holy Sprit in your holy church, all honor and glory is yours, almighty God, now and forever. Amen.

And now with the confidence of children of God, let us pray: Lord’s Prayer.

Sharing the Bread and the Cup

Closing Benediction

Special thanks to liturgies by Maria Hoshaw and James Love that formed the backbone of this worship service.

vindication and guilt

A former colleague of mine just got dissed in the UM Reporter. I’m not giving out any details beyond that. But I felt strangely vindicated. You see, while I appreciated this person’s ministry, there were parts of it that were very troublesome to me. It seemed like they were stretching the boundaries a little farther than they were meant to go. And while I was often frustrated by that boundary stretching (and this is coming from the queen of boundary stretching!), I was a mere lowly intern at the time and had no real venue to share my frustrations – aside from petty gossip among other interns and colleagues.

So, while part of me is glad that finally someone else noticed and is making others aware of what was going on, and also doesn’t approve, the other part of me is feeling kind of guilty. Guilty for not really stepping up and saying something myself sooner. Guilty for feeling pleasure over the article now when I’m not so much affected by the situation.

D is for Daily Bread

So often when we read the passage about the day laborers, we hear it from the perspective of those who were chosen first and we think about how unfair it is that others have recieved what we have been promised. So today, let us open our minds to hear the gospel message from the perspective of the ones who were chosen last…

My name is Carla. And I am a day laborer. Each and every single morning I get up at 4:30 and I try to find something in the pantry to feed my son. He is twelve years old. But paying for his school supplies and getting school clothes has been expensive this year, so breakfasts aren’t quite as filling as they used to be. I get breakfast started, and then I go and wake my son up. It’s early for him, but we’ve got to head out early in the morning if I want to have a chance for work today. Luckily, the Home Depot where I gather with others each day has a shelter that they have put up… and the bus that stops in front of the store will take my son to school. It isn’t the best arrangement in the world and I worry for him, but it’s the only option we have. So we head out together, hand in hand.

Every morning, this is my routine. On weekends, my son stays with his grandmother, but every weekday, we head here together. And we wait.

This particular morning, I was tired. I was tired of waiting for work. The economy is particularly hard this year. Sometimes we pass a newspaper amongst ourselves, but you don’t have to read the headlines to know that things are tough. The numbers of foreclosures and record low homes sales are just that, numbers – we can tell every morning that there is trouble because there are fewer contractors and construction crews coming around to hire us. The landscapers I worked for last summer have gone out of business. Work was never really steady before – but now, it’s almost nonexistent.

In the last six days, I have only been hired once. That day, a contractor stopped by and we painted the outside of a woman’s house. Eight hours of work, eighty dollars. I bought groceries that night, so that my son would have food for breakfast.

This morning, I was hopeful. I was hopeful that work will come today. The electricity bill is due tomorrow and I prayed that I would have money to pay it. The last time our electricity was cut off, we had to stay with my mother-in-law, in her cramped little apartment.

About six o’clock, a man pulled up in a pick-up truck and said he had work! It’s a bit early for harvest, but he said that his fields were ripe and ready and he needed some help – it would be a full days worth of work. Well, all of our hands shot up in the air – of course we all wanted this job. But he couldn’t take everyone. He took Sam, who is probably the strongest of all of us. He took Mark who is young and fit and honestly a good worker. He took a few others, and I couldn’t help but notice that they were the ones who always get chosen first. The ones who as kids were always picked first for the game of dodgeball. All of them were promised $150 for their work that day… and I could only dream of what that would do to help my family out. But the truck pulled away and I wasn’t on it. I looked down at my son who was sitting on the bench behind me, and was glad that he slept through my disappointment.

Perhaps all of our hopes got up by that one landowner because there was a good spirit among us for an hour or so. The bus was coming soon, so I gently woke my son up and walked him over to the stop and got him on the right bus. And I went back to waiting. Another hour ticked by, and the lot of us were still standing there. One car pulled up needing a skilled electrician – and so two people were chosen… but not me. My husband was amazing with his hands – he knew everything there was to know about wiring and building… He died of cancer two years ago – the medical costs ate up all of our savings and I have little skills. I stayed at home with our son. When my husband died, we lost the house. We lost everything. This is our life now.

Nine o’clock rolled around and I looked up to see that old blue pick-up truck roll back by our shelter. It was the first man again – the man with the field. He said he could use a few more… that they were finding there was more work than he thought. So he looked us over. I tried to stand up tall. I tried to wipe the tiredness from my eyes. He chose five from among us. But I wasn’t chosen. They hopped in the back of his truck and headed out to the field.

About noon, my stomach started to grumble, but I couldn’t leave- not when someone might come by any minute looking for workers. Often a contractor would come by over the lunch hour and hire people for the afternoon. And sure enough, I heard the rumble of an engine pulling up. It was the same blue pick-up truck, the same man looking out at us from the driver’s seat. “I need a few more,” he said – “I’ll pay you what is fair… you three – climb on in.” He wasn’t pointing at me. He was pointing at the three Vietnamese immigrants who were standing together to one side. They climbed in and the truck headed out.

As the afternoon went on, a few of us started to filter away. Hopes were down – there just wasn’t going to be any more work today. My son’s bus didn’t stop until about 4:30… I might as well wait that long, you never know, right?

Every time a car passed us, we stood in anxious anticipation. But many of them were just customers of the store trying to get out of the parking lot. No one was looking for workers. We stood anyways – the same up and down over and over again. About 3:00, I was amazed to see that same old blue pickup pull over to the shelter. He looked at all of us, almost with a look of pity, and hopped out. I have a bit more work – he said gently – I know it’s late, but I’ll pay you what is fair for the few hours that are left. There were seven of us left – but the truck was full of supplies and not all of us would fit. He took three.

At least I would get to wait for my son, I thought, trying to see the silver lining in all of this. But after five days of no work, the silver lining was dull and grey. I dreaded having to tell him yet again that there was no work today. I just wouldn’t be able to face him if we had to pack up a bag and move in with his grandma again. We can take care of ourselves, right mom? He had said the last time. I’m starting to think that it’s just not possible.

My son’s bus came and he hopped off and he looked around – I could tell he was hoping I wasn’t there. It wasn’t a long walk back to our apartment and he had made it countless times before. If I wasn’t there, it meant we would have a hot dinner tonight when I eventually made it back. But there I was. Under the shelter. He looked straight at me, and then turned to head up the street.

I wanted to run after him, to yell at him for disrespecting me like that, but I felt nothing but shame. Shame that I couldn’t support us. Shame that there wasn’t enough food in the cupboards. Shame that he saw me for what I truly was. Worthless. I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t face him. Not yet. And there were still a few others under the shelter – also dreading heading home with nothing in their hands. So I stood there and waited.

Not fifteen minutes went by, and I started to hear the familiar chug of an old engine. I figured that the farmer was starting to bring people back in from his field, so I thought nothing of it – but when the truck got closer – I realized it was empty. He slowly pulled up to the two of us who were left and leaned out the window. “Why have you been standing here all day?” he asked. It seemed to me like a dumb question – so I spouted back before I could bite my tongue – “Because no one hired us!” I looked away, not wanting to see his response. It seemed like a long three seconds – like a lifetime was passing by – and then he spoke again. “Hop in – I’ll take you out to the field.”

He didn’t say anything about pay – and it seemed ludicrous to go out and work when the sun would be setting in a few hours, but I looked at John next to me, John who only has three fingers on his left hand because of some construction accident a few years ago, and he shrugged. “C’mon,” he said, “at least we can feel like we have done something today.” So we climbed in the truck.

We got out to the field quickly. I was amazed at what I saw – bushels and bushels and bushels of the biggest grapes I had seen in my life. I was so eager to work that day I never stopped to ask what kind of fields the man had. And it didn’t matter, work was work. We hopped out and he pointed toward the bushel baskets – “all of them have to be loaded,” he said – just pitch in where you can.

With the whole lot of us, loading was quick work. We piled the baskets high in a nearby wagon, so that the tractor could take them to the processor. An hour went by before we knew it, and the job was done. The man who owned the fields gathered all of us up together and thanked us for our work. Then he called over to his foreman and handed him an envelope. Pay time.

The foreman called John and I up first and handed us each three crisp fifty dollar bills. My mouth dropped open and I began to stutter. “Umm, there must be some mistake,” I said – “This is too much money… we’ve only been working for an hour.”

“What did you get?” someone called out behind me, and I showed him the bills. But the foreman looked at us and simply called out, “Next.”

Group by group, the workers came forward, amazed at what we had received and I could tell, they were expectantly hoping for more. But by the time that first group – the six who were picked early that morning – we began to realize that he was paying everyone the same amount. Everyone walked away with $150 – the amount that first group had been promised.

Sam, the big guy, was the first to speak up. “Hey, now what’s going on here?!” he yelled – “how come all of those guys got the same amount as we did – we’ve been working here, slaving in the sun all day long?”

I was sort of wondering the same thing… To be honest, I would have been grateful for just five or ten dollars – something to take home, something to feed my son with.

The owner of the vineyard came forward from where he was leaning against his old blue truck – “Am I doing you any wrong,” he asked? “Didn’t I promise you $150 this morning? You have been given what you were promised, but I choose to give to even these last ones the same amount – am I not allowed to be generous with my money?”

I felt undeserving, I felt unworthy, but I clutched those bills tightly in my hand the whole way back. I was nothing but grateful. Grateful for the hope this brought to my family. Grateful for the chance to work at all. Grateful that I would be able to go home to my son and bring something to the table for dinner. Grateful that we would be able to make it another month with the electricity. Simply grateful.

I bought a hot loaf of fresh bread and a couple cans of beef stew to take home – the rest would be saved for the bills. My son was surprised when I walked in carrying a grocery bag, he looked up and for the first time in a week, I saw him smile.

I warmed the stew up on the stove and set the table before us, bowls of stew for each and the loaf of bread set proudly in the middle of the table. My son came over and I started to say grace like I usually do – with the Lord’s Prayer.

Our Father, who art in heaven… hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread…” I paused. For half a second I paused and realized what I was saying. The warm yeasty smell of the bread between us rose up and filled my senses. “Give us this day our daily bread…” I began again – but couldn’t go on. My eyes watered up and my son squeezed my hand and finished the prayer for the both of us.

That prayer had always seemed so simple, so meaningless – like something that we just said because we were supposed to until tonight. As my son dug into his stew and ripped a chunk off of the bread, I started to think about what that landowner did for me today. While he taught us all something about money and being generous – while he taught me today that even being one of the last ones chosen, that I was still worthy of that money, he also showed me what God’s grace can look like.

I thought about the Hebrew people out there in the desert, wandering around… completely dependent upon God. And I thought about how anxious they were, how scared, so scared in fact that they forgot about all of the miraculous and amazing ways that God had rescued them from Egypt. But God took care of them. God promised that he would provide, and each day gave them the gift of heavenly manna – their daily bread.

Did they deserve it? Probably not after all of their grumbling. Did I deserve this feast tonight? Definitely not. But what I realized today is that God doesn’t give us what we deserve – God gives us what we need. They didn’t have to be rescued and I didn’t have to be picked today… but I was and they were – and that in and of itself is something to be grateful for.

And I’m not talking about just money. I’m not talking about just things. I’m talking about life itself. Give us this day our daily bread – give us this day our daily dose of grace. Grace doesn’t come in sizes. I don’t get less grace because I’m a widowed single mother who doesn’t make it to church every Sunday. That pastor down the street who wears the fancy stole doesn’t get more because he stands up to preach every Sunday. I don’t get less grace for all the times I have doubted or decided to rely on my self rather than God. And those people who have believed since they were infants don’t get more. Grace can’t be measured. It is simply given and given abundantly.

Tonight I tucked my son into bed and I read my nightly devotions. Some nights I don’t quite get to them because the day has been too long… but tonight, I felt like I wanted to spend time in God’s word, to simply spend time with God as a sign of my gratefulness. I opened up the bible to Philippians: Paul wrote there, “For me, living is Christ and dying is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me…. I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith, so that I may share abundantly in your boasting in Christ Jesus… only live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ – stand firm in one spirit, strive side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and don’t be intimidated by your opponents.”

Life in the flesh means fruitful labor – it means working every day to live a life worth of the gospel of Christ.

lectionary leanings


This Week’s Lectionary

I’m in the midst of my “ABC’s of Being the Church” series, and this week we are on “D.”

After much back and forth, I finally found the inspiration I needed from Lindy Black’s Sermon Nuggets and a thought somewhere on there about Daily Bread.

Our lectionary readings talk about the gift of manna in the wilderness, about the joy of fruitful labor, and about the undeserved pay for the workers who were chosen last.

I think I want to focus my sermon this week on how undeserving we are of the daily bread God gives us. We pray the Lord’s prayer almost as if the daily bread were a right, and not a gift. We stand after a long days work and demand our wages, not remembering that it was a gift to be chosen for the task in the first place. We think the work we are called to is a means of getting somewhere else, instead of seeing the work itself as a blessing – our work every day for the Lord.

Who is Missing

Last week while on vacation,  I got to spend a lot of time with my neice and nephew.  My neice is three and my nephew is almost seven years old.  And whenever you spend so much time around little ones, you are guaranteed to hear the cutests and darndest things.

As we began to make our long journey back home, our car pulled out onto the highway right behind a logging truck with eight foot, freshly cut logs piled high in the back. 

We pointed out the logs to my neice, who immediately wanted to know why the trees broke.  We tried to explain that they had been cut down, but her only response was, “tell me the truth, guys!”

We went on to share how those tress would be made into things like toothpicks and tables and paper, but after every explanation, every description that seemed completely logical to our adult minds, she looked at us, with a face of pure unbelieve and shouted back, “That’s not true!  Tell me the truth, guys!”

Her little mind hasn’t yet formed the connections between a tree growing in the forest and the paper she colors on every day.  The ability for one thing to become another isn’t a concept she can comprehend yet. And so she thought we were all lying to her.  Me, her huncle, her father, all of us.  And it only got worse the more we laughed and smiled – not because we were fibbing, but because of how adorable she was.

My neice didn’t believe us because she couldn’t yet, but there are times in our lives when we have something deeply true and important to share and when no one believes us it can be very painful and frustrating.  As we explore both of our scritpures this morning, we fill find both those who don’t believe and also the longing to include them on this journey of faith.

In Paul’s letter to the Romans this is more obvious.  He writes to his fellow Israelites – those who have grown up reading the same scriptures – who understand the same prophecies – to those whom God has chosen – and Paul is in anguish over the fact that his brothers and sisters of Israel don’t believe him. No matter how many times he shares his store, they don’t believe Jesus is the Messiah they have been waiting for.  But still, Paul never gives up and keeps writing to them, trying to share what he has found.  And he keeps praying and rusting in God’s promises to Israel, to us all.

In our gospel lesson this morning, the unbelieving ones anre a bit harder to find.  When Jesus needs some time away – som rest and a space to grieve the death of his friend, John the Baptist, he tries to leave quietly in the morning.  But the crowds of followers watch his every move and they all gather together at his destination before he even arrives.

Now – having just been on vacation, I can assure you – as much as I love all of you – if you had journeyed up to Northern Wisconsin and were waiting beside my cabin when I pulled up last week – I might have been pretty upset.  I probably would have ordered you all back hom, or I might have hopped back in the car and tried to find a better hiding place.

In any case – I don’t know that I could have mustered up the compassion that Jesus had for all of those men, women and children who had journeyed out to that deserted place to be with him.

So moved was Jesus that he spent all day moving among the crowds and healing those who were sick.  He set aside his own plans for the day, his own need to grieve, and he ministered to their needs.

After hours upon hours of these acts of sacrifice, mercy, and compassion, his tired disciples come up to Jesus and begged him to send everybody home.

“There is no food here,” they cried.

“It’s hours past supper time”

“My blood sugar is running low,” they chimed in.

“My tummy is rumbling.” 

“Send everyone back to the towns so that they – and we – can get some food!”

I can just picture the mischevious, knowing smile that comes across Jesus’ face as he responds, “No need to send them away – you give them something to eat!”

Because, you see, Jesus already knows the disciples are thinking about scaricty – about how little they have -the few loaves of bread and fishes they brought with them that morning for a meager lunch they didn’t have time to eat.  And Jesus knew that what sometimes looks tiny and insignificant can be full of life and life abundant.

So in front of all of those people, all of those faithful crowds who followed Christ into the wilderness, he took the bread of his disciples, blessed the bread and broke it, then gave it to his closest followers so that they could serve the many.

All of those who gathered to see Jesus – to hear him speak and maybe ever tho be healed – got so much more than they were bargaining for that day.  They didn’t just catch a glimpse of Christ and spend some time at his feet… they caught a glimpse of the last supper.  They got a foretaste of the heavenly banquet.  They witnessed a radical outpouring of life and generosity and abundance like hadn’t been seen since the days of the prophets or since Israel journeyed in the wilderness and the people were fed by manna from heaven. 

All who were gathered there ate and were filled.  Filled with life, filled with hope, filled with the love of Christ, who shared himself with them in the breaking of the bread.

Now all of that is well and good, but like Paul Harvey – I want to know “the rest of the story.”  You see, in the “rest of the story” my mind sees unbelieers.  In the rest of the story, I feel my heart breaking like Paul’s because I think about all of those people who didn’t show up, who stayed home to mow the lawn, who didn’t think they were worthy or welcome, who were too sick to come. 

I think about all of those people today who don’t believe God is real, who can’t understand that God loves them and who live their lives empty of that reality.  I think about them and I understand Paul’s frustration.

And you know what, I re-live that feeling each month when we gather around this communion table.  I re-live that pain and longing because I know that there is enough here:

enough bread and enough juice
enough love and enough grace
for all to come and be filled.

There is more than enough here, and yet there are many who won’t taste this meal today.

Maybe they are family members who are too busy for church.  Maybe they are co-workers that you have never thought to invite.  Maybe it’s the person down the street who lives along and longs for a place to belong… but who doesn’t know we exist.

Each time we gather around the communion table, I have asked you to look around and notice who is not with us. It is not a typical part of the litany – but something that one of my pastor’s shared with me that really rocked my world.

Before that, the communion table was about my own personal relationship with God – it was a private act done in a public place.  But then, I realiced that this is a table set not just for me, or even just for those in this room, but this is a table set for all.  Everyone is welcome here.  Everyone will be fed here – if only they are able to gather around the table.

I want us to take a few minutes this morning to think about “who is missing” more seriously.  Who in your life, who in this community, is NOT gathered with us or other people of faith around the table?

Here are some slips of paper and I want to invite you to prayerfully write down the name of someone you know, someone you want to invite to join us on this journey.  I also ask you to include your name, so that together you and I can reach out to that person or family.  When we take the offering after the message, place those names in the offering plate.

My prayer is that when we gather agian around this table next month, that some of those people for whom our hearts break might be able to share in this amazing feast with us.

Over the next few weks we will explore ways to share the love we have experienced with each of these people.  Some may simply come and are eager for the invitation.  But we might find that there are others to which we have to go – to take the church to them – to gather around other tables in other places.  But let us remember that Paul never gave up on his message – and while people may not believe us or won’t come at first, God does and through his power others will too.

Lectionary Leanings


I’m hearing Romans call to me this week. Every time we gather around the communion table (this Sunday, being the first Sunday for us), I say something about looking around and noticing who is not at the table with us today – either by choice, because of illness, or because we haven’t invited them. I kind of just say it, but never have gone into depth as to why I say that with the congregation.

Paul’s cry of despair for his brothers and sisters who haven’t listened to his message, who don’t believe him and have turned away for that reason seems like a good way to make that message more explicit. I think I’m going to ask the congregation during the sermon time to think about the people in the community – their co-workers, family members, neighbors – who they also care deeply for and who they would like to share the love of God with. I’m going to have them write down those names and then make special handwritten invitations to those people to join us for our big fall kickoff at the end of the month.

Our theme is “back to the basics” so it would be a good time for people who are new or who have been away for a while to get back into the swing of things.

I also want to tie in the gospel message about Jesus having compassion on the people and wanting to feed them all – and how Christ continues to want to gather all of us around the table and to share God’s abundance with us.

Three Simple Rules: Do No Harm

Once upon a time, a small group of Christians approached their teacher. “Mr. Wesley,” they said timidly, “you have been preaching to us over and over again about the wrath is to come. We want to follow Jesus, we want to experience God’s salvation. But how do we get from here…. To there?”

Well that teacher, Mr. Wesley himself, was a man who had struggled with that very question. You see, growing up, he thought that he always had to be doing something in order to prove himself worthy of God. He was always looking for some method, some way, some path that he was supposed to walk on in order to get to God. Or maybe, it was that he was looking for some way of finding the assurance of his salvation. You see, for Wesley and that small group that approached him, it seemed like the wrath of God was always hanging over their heads, just waiting for some little sin to come along so that it could pounce.

In his younger years, Wesley had tried all sorts of things to bring him that assurance, to prove that he was safely in the arms of God’s love. He meticulously kept a journal of all the things that he did in a day – as a way of measuring his progress. He fasted two days a week. He got up at 4 am to pray and study. He spent time in prisons visiting those who were lost and in orphanages visiting those who were abandoned. And he met with fellow believers, always seeking to learn more about what God demands of our lives.

But you see, Wesley had a little problem as well. As much as his type A personality didn’t want to admit it, he found multiple places in the scriptures where it says “faith and not works” is what saves us. Sometimes he was trying too hard. Making the path more difficult than it really had to be.

Out of all of that straining and trying and pushing and pulling of his own experience, when this small group of people came to him and asked “what should we do,” Wesley had an idea. He arranged a time when they could all gather together to pray. And then weekly they continued together to pray, they gathered together to hear the gospel – to hear over and over again that they are beloved children of God and that God would provide the grace they needed to be transformed. And they gathered together to watch over one another in love – to point out when another was starting down the wrong path and to encourage faithful steps.

And when they did so, there were three things that they focused on – three rules that all people in the societies had to follow. Three ways to measure how they were in fact doing: First – Are you doing harm to others? Second – Are you doing good to others? Third – are you staying in love with God?

This week, we are going to focus on “doing no harm.” For Wesley, these included a number of things like: taking the name of God in vain; fighting, quarreling, taking your brother or sister to court; slaveholding; gossip; wearing gold and costly apparel; buying on credit things you cannot afford to pay for; and singing songs and reading books that don’t tend to the knowledge or love of God.

From the looks of it – it almost appears that Wesley’s rules are yet another addition to the 10 commandments, an attempt like those of the Pharisees to make things harder than they have to be – to place more obstacles between us and God’s love and grace. Don’t do this, Don’t do that. Lead boring lives of strict obedience and puritanical faith.

But that’s not what these are at all. In this first rule – that we should do no harm, is about taking the time to think about who is harmed and where is injustice done through our everyday actions.

Doing no harm is about taking the time to see other people as children of God and asking how they are affected by our decisions.

Because the truth of the matter is, even as Christians, we still make mistakes. We still take the wrong path at one time or another, We still have slips of the tongue and do hurtful things to the people we love. We still sin. The question is – how to we keep from doing it again? How do we prevent those things from eating us alive and enslaving us?

This is the same question that Paul is wrestling with in Romans. After all of his talk about living under grace now instead of the law, after all his talk about being free in Christ to choose the good he has a confession to make: No matter how hard I try, I still do those very things that I don’t want to do. Try as I might, I keep doing bad things.

And the old Paul – the Saul who lived under the law and whose faith required complete obedience… who taught that those who broke the law had punishment awaiting them… the old Saul would have been mortified by his sins. The old Saul may not have been able to live with himself – or would have lived in a state of denial and making excuses, always trying to avoid the truth about his failures.

But the new Paul… the new Paul who now lives under grace freely acknowledges what he has done wrong because he knows it’s the only way to let go it. It is the only way to forgive himself and to freely rest in God’s grace. We can only experience grace by accepting our lives as a whole – the good and the bad – and in the process, acknowledging where we are moving towards God.

There was once a Native American elder who described his own inner struggles, his inner war, in this manner: “Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time.” When asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, “The one I feed the most.”

Making the simple precept of “do no harm” one of our most important goals in daily living is making the decision not to feed the mean dog. It is making the decision not to encourage the sort of behavior in ourselves or in others that will eventually lead to hurt and disappointment.

In our roundtable group this week, we talked about ways that some of these things are harmful – ways that they hurt rather than heal relationships. One of the group shared about a time when children were playing… got hurt… parent wanted to sue… offered to pay… not about hurting others, but taking the time to make things right… how foreign that was to the other person.

We live in a society where we are always looking for ways to hurt one another, to get to the top of the heap… it’s a dog eat dog world out there and you’ve got to get ahead.

If that means working on Sundays or making other’s work on Sundays – so be it. If that means finding tax breaks and worming your way through the law to get the cheapest goods- so be it. If that means buying expensive jewelry and the best clothes so that you can show just how successful you are and separate yourselves from the rest – so be it. If it means paying your employees as little as possible so that you can make an extra buck – so be it. If it means putting down others so you can look better – so be it.

That’s the way our world works. Or at least, that’s the way we try to make it work. But the truth of the matter is, we all just end up more bruised and battered and damaged than when we started.

And because that is the way that we have always done it, there just doesn’t seem to be another way. Paul laments about his sinful state, about his struggle to do good and his inevitable failure and like a lightbulb going off in his head he cries out: “Who will deliver me from this body of death?… I Thank God… through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

We struggle and we wrestle and on our own spend so much time focusing on all the bad things that we have done and continue to do in our life. But we need to be reminded that Christ himself promised he would teach us. “take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls.” so stop beating yourself up over not doing the good. walk with me, become my apprentice, cease from doing harm, and lay aside that burden of guilt.

For too long, we have focused on the wrath of God that hangs over us. When we do so, then all of these “simple rules” become hoops to jump through. They become things we do or don’t do to maintain our standing in an organization – to keep our membership. They become things we d oor don’t do because someone told us to. When we focus on the wrath of God, we are focusing on the law and following the law, and our lives become hollow – empty – cold.

But salvation is a gift from God… it is freely offered, without question, without cost, to anyone and everyone. Grace is a gift from God, always preceding us, always moving us, always ready to be given. The trouble is, we are always looking for the catch. We are always making excuses: I’m not worthy enough, I’m not ready yet, I have all of this guilt and past hanging over me.

That is the load that we have been carrying on our own. That is what we have yoked ourselves to and that is why Jesus calls out to his disciples: come to me, take my yoke of grace upon you, and let your soul be at rest. We have let so much come between us and God’s grace. Denial, guilt, other obligations. We need to set that yoke and those chains aside and finally rest in the peace of God’s love.

The gospel message is so hard to absorb because it seems too good to be true, to easy to be really real. We want to live in a world of black and white, good and bad, where those who do wrong are punished and justice is had for all.

But what Jesus says to us is: come to me, all of you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. My burden is easy, my yoke is light.

What we want, are rules to follow – clear simple directions. Do this, don’t do that. And we want to know what the rewards and consequences are. We want to know what the ends are.

What is so hard to believe is that Jesus actually makes it very simple. I will give you rest from your burden – your burden of guilt, your burden of sin, your burden of despair. I will take all of that from you and teach you a new way. A new way to live. And I do this all freely – without cost.

Come to me, come to this table, come and take this life that I am freely giving you. Come and eat this bread and drink of this cup and remember that I have already taken your sin away. I have already died so that you may live. Come and find rest for your soul. Amen.